ㅤㅤㅤㅤ ㅤㅤㅤㅤ dawn exhales its last sigh : clouds, weary and listless, submerge themselves in hues of oranges and reds and guilt. the freezing cold is but a distant memory as you stare, wordless, plunging into the debris of eerie silence. mud eyes, virtuous & tranquil, follow each movement : the way his hand shakes ( your heart swells with disdain ), the way his brows furrow ( and a gentle happiness ) & the way his tongue pokes out, rests on the bed of chapped lip ( and a downpour of adoration, all merging into an amalgam of feelings that you cannot name ). for once, your brain — ailed by the restless, sharp stinging of paranoid pins, over and over and over — turns reticent, gives you the privilege of a clear thought. ( * for a barren moment, nothing seems to hurt. )
ㅤㅤㅤㅤ ㅤㅤㅤㅤ eventually, you draw near and hover over the makeshift plank table, in a way skittish. somewhat unsure. it is not casey that makes you feel at unease : it’s the idea of hurting him, of startling his weak self and making his body flinch. ❛ . . . are you drawing? ❜
serenity to you is like walking to an infant , foreign & unusual. like a jury punishing a man free of sin : you don’t deserve it. the comfort of a home , a place to be safe. ( you’ve taken lives. children don’t kill. ) you take the shape of a boy with freckled cheeks & a split , sore lip. your front tooth is chipped & your calloused palms tainted with the kinds of things you cannot clean with soap. THOUGH YOU ARE NOT A BOY AT ALL. ( boys dont kill. boy’s don’t ) his voice draws you in , starving fish desperate / caught on a hook. your hurricane has taken it’s rest today , has found it’s way stuffed in the back of your pounding head. it will come back , it always comes back.
you have sewn horrors onto crisp white pages , words scribbed with heat. there is no other way for you to say it. today is a special day : oh you can breathe. & you’ve seen this creature out in the streets. those streets where you have to disguise yourself : a weapon on the run. a loaded gun. today it’s a dog. perhaps a rabid wolf would suit someone like you , hauntingly so. both natural born killers , rabid & malicious. feeding off the unexpecting , surviving but never really living. itching / vicious / unwanted. ( but not him : not the boy in front of you. ) never him. ❛ ❛ dog , ❜ ❜ it is spoken timidly , hues of blue remain on the sheet of paper. there should be splatters of fresh red , should be cursed letters etched like the devil’s mantra. but only the crooked body of a dog blesses page. trembling wrists will not allow you to do any better. even if you tried to ! ❛ ❛ do you like it ? ❜ ❜ say yes , say yes , say
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